


Proving the Worth of a Wolf

by elistaire



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 16:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10441470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistaire/pseuds/elistaire
Summary: Two visitors to Duncan MacLeod's door are in search of one of Methos' old aliases. What they really need is to call in an old favor, relying on Methos' long-ago romance with their grandmother. She led the wolf pack until her death and her granddaughter is up for leader, except she needs some serious help.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pat_t](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pat_t/gifts).



> pat_t mentioned she was longing for a more romance-inclined DM/M story, and I wanted to try and write something for her, and this came about, but this story is decidedly not more romance-inclined. I'm sorry about that. It is slightly horror and mostly DM and M being comfortable with being together for a long time already. And mackiedockie's _The Long Night Moon_ had me thinking about werewolves. 
> 
> And I acknowledge the fact that I'm very rusty at writing in this fandom.

"Can I help you?" Duncan MacLeod warily looked over the young visitors to his front door. Neither one looked like anything out of the ordinary, but all of Duncan's instincts warned him that they were dangerous. 

"We're looking for Adam Booker," the young man said. He looked to be in his late teens, both in his choice of clothing, mannerisms, and the softness of his jawline. 

Duncan raised his chin. He recognized the name as one Methos had used years prior. If Adam Booker was mortal, though, he'd be in his seventies. "What do you want with an old man?"

"You do know him." The girl shot a pointed glance at the young man before looking back to Duncan with an accusing glare. She looked slightly older than the boy and enough like him that Duncan guessed they were siblings. 

"More like I know of him," Duncan said. "Why are you looking for him? And who are you?" He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb as if he had all day to stand there and wait until his questions were answered. 

"Alyssa and Jacoby Fiddlesop." Alyssa leveled a look at Duncan that said she didn't believe for a moment their names held any meaning to him. "And who are you?"

"Duncan MacLeod. I live here. And I'll ask you again. What do you want with Adam Booker?"

"We'd prefer to speak with him directly. We need to ask him for some advice." Alyssa raised an eyebrow. 

Duncan liked her strength. She was polite, direct, and not giving him a damn inch. "You'd better come in and wait," he said. "I'm not sure exactly if I can get you in touch with him, but I'll see what's what." He stepped back to allow space for them to enter and swung out one arm with his palm up, giving them a gesture to enter. 

"Thanks," said Jacoby. He plunged in first. 

"I thought he lived here," Alyssa said as she passed Duncan.

Duncan wondered what information she had to make her say such a thing. It would do no good to get into a conversation about it. "I'll make some calls." Duncan followed them into the house. 

He and Methos were renting the small two bedroom house for the next several months while they made decisions regarding their next few lives. Methos had already discarded Adam Pierson in favor of Mateo Ingershingle, but poor Ingershingle had been downsized out of a career and Methos no longer wanted to charade around as him anymore. Duncan had no idea what had gotten into Methos to choose such an uncommon last name, other than it seemed to make Methos smirk every time he said or wrote it out. 

Duncan still went around as Duncan MacLeod. It was a family name and he liked it. He also didn't mind that Methos jibed him about it.

After surveying the room with a wrinkle to their noses, his uninvited guests chose seats. Alyssa to one end of the sofa and Jacoby to the armchair. Staying a discreet distance away from his visitors, Duncan spent a moment to text Methos on his phone, relaying the interaction as succinctly as he could. It took more than a minute to type it all out. He put the phone into his pocket and waited for a response. 

"Would either of you like coffee?" Duncan asked. 

"Yes, thank you," said Alyssa. 

"Um, okay," said Jacoby. 

Duncan busied himself with the act of preparing a pot of coffee. This house had an open layout not too dissimilar to his old apartment above the dojo. Duncan could putter around in the kitchen while still keeping an eye on his guests as they waited in the living area. 

Both Alyssa and Jacoby had dark brown hair and brown eyes. Jacoby wore a knitted cap, but his hair was long enough to straggle out from beneath. Alyssa was tidier. Her hair was pulled up into a sensible ponytail. Both wore jeans, but Jacoby had on a sweatshirt two sizes too large for his thin frame. Alyssa wore a fitted jacket with a wrap-around belt. She was very distinctly in control, of her words and her image. Neither wore any jewelry, but both wore running sneakers. Jacoby, for all his slacker clothing, had his shoes neatly pulled tight and tied up. Duncan had the impression these kids sometimes had to run for it and they stayed prepared. 

Other than that small detail, Duncan couldn't place his finger on what put his hackles up. He knew they were dangerous, he just didn't know how or why. 

Jacoby, though younger looking, was about the same size as his apparent sister. Duncan had a solid 60 pounds and five inches on either of them. In a fight, even if Duncan didn't take into account that he was a skilled fighter, he'd have the advantage over both of them just by sheer size. 

The phone in his pocket buzzed that a call was incoming. Duncan punched the on button for the coffee to start brewing and pulled his phone out. 

"Yes?" he asked. Caller id already told him it was Methos. 

"Are they still there?" Methos asked. 

"Yes."

"If they are who I think they are, then they have excellent hearing," Methos said. "Assume they can hear this."

"Okay," Duncan said. Both Alyssa and Jacoby had turned their heads to stare at him. 

"Find out if they're related to Alice Fiddlesop."

"She was our grandmother," Alyssa said. 

"They do have incredible hearing," Duncan said. "Alyssa confirms they are the grandchildren."

"I'll be there in a half hour." Methos disconnected the line. 

Duncan put his phone back into his pocket. "Cream or sugar?" he asked. 

"Neither. I take it black." Alyssa relaxed into the sofa. 

"Me too," Jacoby said. "Um, can I use your bathroom?"

"Over there." Duncan pointed. "First door on the right, down the corridor." The other door down that corridor led to the bedroom. Duncan didn't think Jacoby was going to snoop, but the only thing he'd find in the bedroom would be Methos' dirty underwear and a basket of clean socks waiting to be matched together. He and Methos had been in this house for a few weeks. Their valuable and distinctive items were stowed in storage areas, waiting to be brought out in a less temporary home. This one barely felt lived in. 

Duncan poured coffee into mugs and handed one to Alyssa. He set another one down in front of the spot Jacoby had occupied. 

"How do you know Adam Booker?" Alyssa asked. "Are you family, or just a friend?"

"I'm not sure yet," Duncan said. "It depends on what kind of advice you're looking for."

Alyssa's expression hardened. She obviously didn't want to give any information away, and she wasn't pleased about finding someone who didn't give much away himself. 

"You said you were Alice Fiddlesop's grandchildren. That means Jacoby is your brother. And Alice is no longer alive."

"She died three days ago." A crumpled sort of look flitted across Alyssa's face. She was tough, but the mention of her grandmother brought out emotion. "That's why we're here."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You must have been very close." Duncan sipped at his own coffee. 

"She was our grandmother," Alyssa said. "She loved us."

Duncan gave her a tight smile. He remembered some about his grandparents, but not as much as he wished. Those memories had been formed during his mortal years and seemed softer, less permanent than the ones developed once he became immortal. People didn't live as long back then and what he remembered seemed less memories than just what he'd been told about them. Even when he tried, he couldn't separate learned knowledge from true memory.

Jacoby came back into the room and spotted his coffee. "Thanks," he said as he picked it up and sniffed. "This smells really good. French roast?" He sniffed again. "Oh, no, I take it back. Hawaiian Kona. The good stuff."

"Yes," said Duncan. "You have an excellent sense of smell."

Jacoby shrugged. "It's been awhile since I had this. Mostly we drink the cheap stuff at home. Coffee is expensive."

"I've had a lot of days where all I drank was the cheap stuff," Duncan said. "These days I let myself live a little and splurge."

Alyssa perked up and brought the coffee to her own nose. She inhaled deeply. "It smells amazing." She sipped at it. "Very good. Thank you."

Duncan nodded at her and sipped his own coffee. Silence fell over them and Duncan let it settle in. Methos was on his way and when he arrived, there would be discussion enough. 

Duncan finished his coffee and rose to refill it. "More, anyone?" he asked. He'd brewed an entire pot. There was plenty to share. 

"No, thanks," Alyssa said. 

"Sure," said Jacoby. "I'll come to you." He stood and strode over to the kitchen. Between using the bathroom, sprawling on the chair, and coming into the kitchen, he'd made himself comfortable. 

Alyssa still sat stiffly in the exact spot she'd chosen from the first. Her coffee was half empty. 

Duncan poured into his own cup and then into the one Jacoby held out.

"Love this stuff," Jacoby said as he scooted back to his seat. 

A familiar tingle washed from the top of Duncan's head to the bottom of his spine. He turned expectantly to the front door. 

"I'm home," Methos called out as he entered. He came into the living area still wearing his long coat. Duncan figured he'd done so on purpose, with the objective of keeping his sword close as hand. "What's going on?"

"These two are here to meet with Adam Booker," Duncan said. 

Alyssa and Jacoby both jumped to their feet. 

"I'm Alyssa Fiddlesop and this is my brother Jacoby," Alyssa said. "We're looking for Adam Booker." Her nose twitched. "Are you, um, somehow related to him?"

Jacoby also looked slightly confused. "This is the guy, isn't it?" he asked his sister. 

Alyssa gave him a slight headshake and turned her gaze back to Methos. 

"I know who Alice Fiddlesop is," Methos said. "Is that coffee I smell? Any left?"

"I can brew a new pot," Duncan murmured. 

"She died," Alyssa said. "Three days ago."

"Did she?" Methos paused. "Well, that's interesting. Who is going to succeed her?"

Alyssa and Jacoby exchanged glances. "I am," Alyssa said after a very long moment. 

"Ah," said Methos. "And that's why you're here. Looking for Adam Booker."

"Our grandmother told us what Adam Booker did. I was hoping that--" Alyssa looked to her brother and then back to Methos "--there might be someone in his family that could also help us. Help me."

"How long do we have?" Methos asked. 

"Tomorrow night," Alyssa said. 

"We've been looking for Adam Booker for the past two weeks," Jacoby said. "Grandmom got sick, right at the end. That's when she told us about what happened way back when."

"She had an old address, but that was it. We've been searching ever since." Alyssa moved a step closer to Methos. She held out a hand, palm up, beseechingly. "Please. Help me. You know what I'll have to do if I'm going to take charge."

"I know," said Methos, his voice low and raspy. 

"There's another warrior," Jacoby said. "Our cousin. Kael. He's a pain in the ass. He won't keep the peace."

"Grandmom put me forward ahead of him." Alyssa looked to her feet for a moment before looking up again, clear-eyed. "It isn't cheating." She sighed. "I did it once. When I had to. For defense. Which is why I don't want to do it again. Not because the rules say I need to, to prove I'm fit." She cast a sidelong glance at Duncan. "Could we talk in private? It might be better...."

"No." Methos tipped his head in Duncan's direction. "There's no better man to have at your side than MacLeod here."

A warm feeling burned inside Duncan's chest at the words. He felt the same way about Methos, but they seldom said these kinds of things out loud. He cast a glance at Methos and Methos looked back. For a moment, they exchanged an intense gaze, unblinking and steady. Duncan gave him a small nod and Methos' mouth curved up into an amused smile.

"I assume that Alice gave you something from the fight. To help you find Adam Booker?" Methos started moving again toward the kitchen. He pulled out the coffee pot and frowned at the scant remains in the bottom.

Alyssa pulled a wrapping from her pocket. She held it out in her palm and slowly pulled aside the linen to reveal a scrap of stiff, dark brown fabric within. "From his shirt." She wrinkled her nose. 

Jacoby did as well. "If that isn't him--"

"Jackie," Alyssa said, warning in her voice. "We aren't stupid, Mr. Booker."

"Neither am I." Methos rinsed the coffee pot and filled it with cold water. "I'm going to need pizza for this. MacLeod?"

"I'll order it." Duncan pulled out his phone and walked discreetly toward the corridor. It took a minute to place the order for delivery. He'd picked up enough to know that he needed to order pizza with a lot of meat toppings. Pepperoni, sausage, ham, and chicken. 

Methos finished setting up the coffee pot and came into the living area. He sat down in the remaining chair and leaned back. He lifted his feet and put them against the edge of the coffee table. "Let me tell you a story."

Alyssa folded the small square of stained cloth back into its linen wrapping and put it away. Then she sat down on the couch, as stiff as the first moment she'd sat there. "Please."

Jacoby returned to lounging in his chair. 

"Many years ago, when Alice was very young, she and I met during a dance once evening." Methos smiled. "Did you know she knew almost every dance there was? And she was fantastic at them. Light on her feet. Never stepped on mine. Not once. We danced until the band stopped playing. Then we danced some more. All the way until dawn and then some. We found a bakery and ate warm croissants and drank very dark coffee. We spent the next six months dancing. Until her father died."

"Oh," said Alyssa. 

Jacoby glanced to his sister. He didn't speak, but swallowed strongly. 

"Alice had been keeping a secret from me. I knew she'd run away from her family, at least for a bit. She sounded like she intended to go back to them someday, after she'd had a bit of fun and as much freedom as she could manage. She didn't realize how soon that would be." Methos shrugged. "And I had been keeping a secret from her, too. Well, our romance was over and done with the death of her father. She was far too sensible, even if she'd run away to go dancing. She had to go back to her family. To the pack."

Duncan hovered at the edge of the room, his arms crossed as he leaned his shoulder against the wall. At the mention of the word pack, the pieces solidified into place. Wolves. Of course. 

"In a grand, last ditch romantic gesture, I offered her the one thing I could to make things easier for her." Methos steepled his fingers together. 

"So grandmom proved her worth," Alyssa said softly. "She told us. When she was dying. She explained what happened. She said if we could find you, that you might do it again. As a favor to her."

"You came looking for me."

"Of course."

Methos looked to Duncan. "What you ask is very dangerous for me. There is a way to actually kill me, and ways to maim. You're asking for a very high level of trust."

"I know," Alyssa said. "But if it isn't you, then it'll be someone else. If it isn't by me, it'll be my cousin."

"If Kael's in charge, you can bet everyone will run wild," Jacoby said. He sat up in his chair and looked pained. "He doesn't care about anything other than his own ego and looking the best, and running free and doing whatever he wants. He'll let the others run crazy. Grandmom kept everyone civilized." He coughed. "Well. Slightly more civilized."

"Alice intended to put a stop to this ritual," Methos said. "What happened?"

"She tried. She tried hard, but the old ways are hard to change. Not everyone wants to be kinder and gentler." Alyssa looked down to her hands. "I know this is a lot to ask. A lot of trust for you to have and you don't know me. That's why I brought Jacoby."

"I see." Methos lifted an eyebrow at Duncan. "A token of faith. Like the old days."

Duncan pushed off the wall. "I thought this kind of thing stopped centuries ago." 

"I don't have anything else to offer that would be as effective," Alyssa said. "He's my only brother. You know how much family means in the pack."

Duncan snorted. "I can see there's a lot of love between you and your cousin."

Alyssa stood up and glared at Duncan. "If I become leader, he'll obey me. I don't like him, but he is family."

Methos leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If I do this, you have to promise to change things."

"I'd do my best," Alyssa said, "but you know I can't promise it."

Methos sighed and when he looked up again, Duncan could see he'd made his decision. "One last time. For Alice. After this, don't send your family to me again."

"I--" Alyssa put a hand over her heart. 

Methos waved a hand at Duncan. "And if something goes wrong, you're going to have MacLeod to deal with."

Duncan glowered darkly at the two guests in his living room. 

"Nothing will go wrong," Alyssa assured. 

"Something always goes wrong," Methos said. "You just have to plan for it."

The doorbell rang and Duncan went to pay for the pizza. 

~~~

"Why are these things always at night and always in the middle of the woods?" Duncan asked as he traversed around a bank of trees. 

"Because they are," Methos grumbled. 

"Tell me again why you can't do this off stage?" Duncan pushed aside a branch. "Make it theatrical. Screams and whatnot. Carry in the body, show it off, pack it away. It'd be a hell of a lot safer."

"Because people doubt, MacLeod. They need to see it happen to believe it. The whole thing about being leader of the pack is being strong enough to be a killer. And not just of another pack member. They fight each other all the time. It's the killing of non pack that they fear. Even if we're their prey, we're also the ones that would investigate and hunt them to the ends of the earth. The pack has to know that their leader will kill to defend them. Will defy human law."

"Doesn't this sort of thing defeat that purpose? This ruse?" Duncan pushed branches away and ducked under them. There was enough moonlight to brighten the landscape and turn the world into various shades of black and gray. Details faded into nothing under the scant gloom. 

"You'd rather they find some poor random slob and kill him?" Methos sighed. "I suppose yes, it is a ruse. But it does meat the letter of the law. It isn't going to be a pleasant way to spend the evening for me." Methos followed silently behind Duncan. For several long moments he was quiet. "Besides, this isn't about that. It's for Alice, for her family."

"She must have been something," Duncan said.

"She was." Methos chuckled. "As if you don't have a dozen lovers in your past that you went to the farthest ends for. If anything, you're rubbing off on me."

"Yes, well, that's me," Duncan said. "That's not you. As you've told me before, you're smarter about these things than I am. Why risk your head?"

"Oh, MacLeod." Methos nudged Duncan in the hip. "You should hear yourself. You'd do this. So why shouldn't I?"

"Because!" Duncan sputtered. "Just because!"

"We're here," Methos said. 

"A little early, too," Duncan said as he checked the time. 

"It'll be fine. Sixty minutes, probably less, and we'll go home and I'll take a nice hot bath."

"Or I'll have to avenge your death." Duncan leaned grumpily against a tree. "It'll take me all night to finish off an entire pack of wolves."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'd rather enjoy some lovemaking with you tonight. And that really nice bottle of whateveritwas that you hid under the sink when you thought I wasn't looking."

"Come back alive and you get to find out," Duncan said. He didn't care that it came out sounding petulant. He wasn't very pleased about this whole business. 

He'd heard about werewolves before. He'd run across them on occasion in very oblique ways. He'd even dated one, once, a long time ago, and she'd been intense. He had not been aware of this particular ritual for passing along power. He'd heard about werewolves fighting each other to become leader of the pack. That sort of fight to the death had been commonplace. Apparently, different packs had different rules. 

Methos found Duncan's hand in the dark and threaded their fingers together. "I will." He squeezed Duncan's hand. 

"Mr. MacLeod? Mr. Booker?" Alyssa appeared from the darkness of the woods. "You found the spot." She looked over her shoulder and her brother came into view. She looked pale in the darkness. "This spot is far enough away that the rest of the pack shouldn't know you're here, but if they sense something wrong, you'll be close enough to act."

"Like if they wonder where the hell I am?" Jacoby said. 

"They shouldn't. They all saw you just now and they'll see you after it's over." Alyssa put a hand on Jacoby's shoulder. "Twenty minutes. Maybe thirty. I'm going to make it as fast as I can." 

She looked at Methos. "Are you ready?"

Methos released Duncan's hand and Duncan immediately felt the cool air of emptiness. 

"As ready as one can be under the circumstances."

Duncan reached out and caught Alyssa's hand. "Stay away from his throat. And--"

"And no removal of limbs. Yes, Mr. MacLeod. I know." She stared into Duncan's eyes and he saw again the cool, collected girl who stood strong against him when they first met. "I would sooner let myself perish than let permanent harm come to Mr. Booker."

"I'll hold you to that," Duncan said. He jutted his chin in Jacoby's direction. "And take him with you?"

"What?" Alyssa frowned. "He's your insurance."

"It's enough that you were going to have him stay here," Duncan said. "And it'll be easier to pull this off if you don't have to make some excuse to return Adam here. Jacoby can do it."

Alyssa's attention flicked between her brother and Methos. "It would make things a lot less messy." She nodded. "Okay. Jacoby, come with me."

"At last," Jacoby muttered, "someone with common sense."

Duncan watched as Methos, Jacoby, and Alyssa moved off into the night. 

He listened as their footsteps faded away. Then he could only hear the normal sounds of a wooded area at night. He checked the time. The seconds felt like eternity crawling by. He strained his attention as far as it could go. Could he hear anything of the situation? He imagined he could. Voices flitted. Noises echoed. But he could hear nothing other than the sounds of the woods in the night. A rattle or a crack, the swish of leaves in the wind. The sway of a tree. 

He waited in agony. 

He did not envy Methos carrying out this task. Methos must have cared very much for Alice, to go to this length for her grandchildren. No matter that he knew he'd revive, the process of dying would be painful. 

Finally, the soft crunch of a twig warned him that his waiting was over. 

A minute later, Jacoby and Methos popped into view. He was grinning, with a feral look across his face, and Duncan realized that his teeth were still long and sharp. 

Jacoby laughed. "I'm burying him. So you'd better take him away." He shook his head and his hair fell loose around his face. "Alyssa is delaying them from running through the night with some speeches, but they won't wait long. Make it quick."

Methos looked tired. The front of his clothes were soaked through with blood and he smelled awful. Duncan slung the bag he'd been carrying off his shoulder and pulled the fresh clothes from it while Methos stripped off his clothes into a heap. When he was dressed, he leaned once against Duncan. 

"Glad that's over," he said, his voice low. 

"Are you okay?"

"I've been to parties that a lot more fun."

Duncan snorted and Methos graced him with a wry smile. 

"You'd better leave. I can hear them entering the forest." Jacoby picked up the bloodied shirt from the pile as Duncan stuffed the other bits of ruined clothing away. "This is mine." 

In front of them, everything about Jacoby shifted. One moment, he was a young man, with hair too long and in need of a shower. The next moment, he was a strangely misshapen wolf. He tore at the shirt with his claws and mouth. He howled into the air and, shirt dragging from his teeth, went running away. 

Methos grabbed Duncan by the arm. "Let's go before this whole thing goes wrong."

Duncan hurried after Methos. "What--"

"They're kids, MacLeod. They're trying, but they're still wolves." Methos led the way through the trees. "Once they scent blood, it's better if we're nowhere around here to tempt them."

"I didn't want to be anywhere near here in the first place," Duncan muttered. He didn't stop expecting claws in his back until they reached the road and even then, he checked his rearview mirror, looking for eyes glowing in the darkness. 

~~~

"Feeling better?" Duncan asked. 

"There's not a lot that a hot shower and a cold beer can't make better," Methos said. He toweled his hair dry and threw the towel onto the bathroom floor. "I haven't forgotten you hid something for drinking. But maybe we'll have it tomorrow when I'm less fatigued."

Duncan disliked leaving wet towels around, but tonight he would not mention it. "You had three beers. And you spent at least half an hour in the shower."

"The water went cold, so I got out," Methos said. "I'd have had more beer but I didn't want to wait to take a shower."

"Makes perfect sense." Duncan flipped the covers to the bed back. "Come here."

Methos pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and rolled onto the bed with an appreciative sigh. "Feels good. I'll tell you, it's a very tiring experience to get clawed to death. Also, I had to put on a show. Do all the cowering and pleading. Put up a bit of a fight."

"You didn't have to do it." Duncan wrapped his arms around Methos. "You could have said no."

"I thought about that. I'm not the hero type. Not like you."

"I don't know about that."

"You're a bad influence on me, that's what." Methos threaded his fingers through Duncan's. "I could even have lived with the fact that they'd have found some other poor guy to take my place. Maybe even someone who wouldn't get back up again. I can't save everyone."

"What if they didn't?" Duncan asked. "The cousin would have gotten power."

Methos shrugged. "Would it have changed the way we live? A few werewolves eating grandmothers at the edges of grocery parking lots late at night? Hardly."

"Then tell me, oh heartless--"

"Practical."

"--oh practical one. Why did you do it?" 

Methos took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Alice, of course. I loved her, even if we weren't meant to be together. I cared deeply for her and for what she held dear. I couldn't bear how heartbroken she would have been for her grandchildren to be in danger. Which they would have been if they didn't secure leadership. That's what she worked for, that's what she sacrificed for. Her family."

"You're a softie," Duncan said. He ran his fingers lightly over Methos' arm. "I was worried about you."

"I know." Methos twisted so that they could look each other in the eyes. "Honestly, I was worried about me. That was possibly one of the foolhardiest things I've ever done. If I try to do something like that again, please stop me."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Duncan settled in next to Methos in a complicated position that somehow had their feet tangled, their torsos separated, and their shoulders bumping. Duncan loved how they slept together, hot and cold, touching and separate. "At least until the next person comes along asking for a favor."

"Hmph. I get one person knocking for every ten of yours." Methos snorted, his voice sounding sleepy. "Tomorrow, I bet someone comes looking for your assistance."

"I'd bet you, but I don't want to lose," Duncan said. 

"We'll worry about it tomorrow."

"Yes," Duncan said as sleep overtook him. Methos was so warm against him. "Let's."


End file.
